


The Price Of Pride

by Scooter_The_Noodle



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 01:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11070861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scooter_The_Noodle/pseuds/Scooter_The_Noodle
Summary: This is a short story written for a Wattpad contest. It is about a Trans girl learning to accept herself.





	The Price Of Pride

Dear Journal, or whatever the heck you are,  
It's June, Pride month. A month I get to be me. But what use is that without your family?

I've never written in you before, so let me tell you about me, since that is why I got you. 

You always hear about how others get kicked out of their house and family for being in our community, yet you never think it could happen to you. Your parents love is unconditional. Until it isn't.

I was born in 1998, on January 8th. It's now 2017 and I'm on my own. I was given the name Evan Smith.

I don't remember when I first realized it, but for as long as I can remember, I hated my body. It was a male's body. I was a female. I would try to express this through wearing dresses and through having my older sister do my make up, but it was no use.

They never saw. They chuckled and told me how funny and cute I was, then told me to go wash it off. 

I guess I should probably say who they are.

"They" are my parental units, Mary and Bob Smith. 

You know the most ironic thing? They told me they would love me, no matter what happened. I guess they couldn't love another daughter.

That's a small tangent. Back to my earlier part.

Soon, they told me I wasn't allowed to wear dresses anymore, because I was getting top big to be doing "stupid kid stuff like that", even though I was dressing how I felt comfortable.

I don't think they missed the signs, because they seemed completely unsurprised, and very disappointed, with my announcement that my name was Evita Halley, or Evita, but I wholly believe that they had hoped and prayed to God I was just being a boy with an older sister. 

I begged them to accept me as who I am. I had been so scared and I think, deep down, I knew that no matter what I did, it was always going to end up how it did. 

You know, many times, when I'm here alone, Stacy gone out with her family, I can't help but relive it.

I was standing on the front porch, confusion the only thing I felt as I looked at the boxes. But that confusion turned to unease, and finally fear, as I realized what they were doing. They avoided eye contact, and simply shove of my stuff they were letting me have out of the house before slamming the door in my face. That was the last time I had ever seen them.

I began to do what I could to start raising up money for the expenses of finally being able to get my hormones. But then I found a *minor* detail. I had to go to therapy to make sure that I wasn't a Psycho. So apparently Gender Dysphoria makes you crazy. Although to those without it, maybe that's what you seemed like.

Months of that therapist asking me the same question, over and over, and acting like I was some child who didn't know what I wanted in life. I worked as hard as I could, but only ever managed to cover about half the cost of each visit with what little my job paid me. Stacy and her Family helped with the rest. 

At long last, I got that stupid note that said I was serious about this. I was finally going to start my hormones! I took one look at it and broke down crying. Yes. I cried. But wouldn't you? You got the one thing in life you wanted the most.

But, then I had to wait for the appointment, and had to find a doctor that actually would see me.

I'm just summarizing this because, honestly, what happened was not terribly interesting.

It took weeks, but I finally got to see the doctor, an older lady. She smelled like a really weird mix of fresh bread an antiseptic. I think she was a grandma. Guess I would never really know. Our conversations were fleeting. They mostly do sister about my hormones, the dosage, and all that super fancy stuff.

I wonder if little girls felt the way I did, checking every day to see if anything was there. I had gone to the store the first day of my treatments and bought some cute training bras, trying to ignore the stairs.

It seemed to take forever for there to be any change. Yet, one day, I felt something. It was a little squishier. But, I had been waiting so long, maybe I was just thinking there was something. But the next morning, I checked and it was like it was the day before. I was etastic. I was finally starting to like my body. It was starting to feel like my body.

I remember when I went to buy my first real bra. It was so overwhelming. I was a trans girl in Victoria's secret. I hadn't learned to let things roll off my shoulders yet. I spent a lot of the time worrying what others were going to think of me. But, even with the worry knotting my stomach, I found a bra. It was a beautiful dark blue, with lace and a silky feel to it. It was amazing.

And when my first summer came after I began my transition, I bought a bikini too to wear with my swim trunks. Of course, I still wasn't a hundred percent happy with my body, it still was too manly. But I was learning to love it a little more each day.

Now, here I am, sitting in the sun, listening to the excited chatter, watching all these people celebrate who they are. I wish my family would see this. But no doubt they would change the channel when they saw anything about this parade. Though I miss them, I am learning to love without them.

Until the next time I have something to tell you.  
-Evita

"Evita! Hurry up! It's about to start!" The dark haired girl looked up from where she sat with the leather bound journal she had found as Stacy shouted at her. Evita just grinned at her before closing the journal and putting it in the shoulder bag she carried.

Everything all situated, she reached down and picked up the tri-colored flag beside her, holding it up high. She was proud of who she was and today was her day to really show it.

With Stacy at her side, the girl marched forward with the crowd. Among this crazy bunch of people, she found where she belonged.


End file.
